Mistress of Fire
Beyond the glow of the
city lights, a car rolled through an open gate, with the headlamps off. The
vehicle followed a path in the tall fescue, lighted by the pale radiance of
the full moon. Reaching a line of trees, the driver parked the car and
slipped out the door. The chirping of crickets filled his ears as he stalked
around the front of the car.
the passenger door, he slung a backpack over his shoulder, cinching the
straps tightly across his shoulders. He stood, looking at the hulking
darkness of the forest and began making his way through the trees. The
moon-glow was hidden behind the canopy of timber and he had to grope his way
through the thick undergrowth.
later, a shadowy figure, lugging a rucksack slung on his back, materialized
at the eastern fringe of the forest. He threw furtive glances about to
verify the seclusion of his position. A smile pulled at the corners of his
lips as he dropped the backpack softly on the velvet carpet of the forest
He dug in the
knapsack and pulled out a small switch box. Without hesitation, he flipped a
toggle on the remote control device and an infrared LED flickered to life.
With a slight sigh, he dropped to his knees and pressed another button on
Across the field
of clover, the incendiary device attached to the eight-inch diameter steel
pipe, beeped twice. The red light on the switch blinking several times then
exploded in a blinding flash of brilliance.
terrific explosion leveled the distant natural gas depot. A rolling shock
wave sped across the field of red clover and he straightened his back,
waiting for the recoil to strike him. He shuddered as the force of the blast
connected with his body. A flush of excitement surged through his body, as
he leaned into the shock wave.
The flames rose
into the air in a titanic plume of fire and debris, sending orange light
across the countryside. It didn't matter to him whether the security guard
was on duty or not. The only consequence was his fix; death was merely
collateral damage. He continued to kneel, mesmerized, as the column of fire
began to exhibit the apparition he longed for -- his Mistress of Fire.
The light of the
firestorm revealed his passionate yearning. His hands were busy
manipulating, fondling the growing tension between his thighs through the
dew-soaked denim. He loosened his pants and slid them down over his slender
hips, exposing his flesh to the cool night air. The hardness of his lust
bounced and throbbed in rhythm to his rapid heartbeat.
Available in Erotic Fantasy: Tales of the Paranormal, edited by Justus Roux.
Available at all major bookstores.
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